Beauty and the Mess
by ClosetDork
Summary: How did Hermione wind up in love with Draco Malfoy? It started in seventh year...HGDM


How did I, Hermione, the bookworm, the know-it-all, the good girl, the one with all the answers, end up with Draco Malfoy

Hello there! This is my first fanfic ever, and also hasn't been edited or read through. Keep in mind it is very much a first draft. Reviews are welcome and constructive criticism is appreciated!

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_**"Beauty And The Mess"**_

_Blue waters blue eyes color me_

_If any could come this close I'd let them see_

_Get it out again and play 'em one more song_

_It's all they really want and who's to say that's wrong_

_Ain't that what you want them to know?_

_All they get of you is what they get out of the show_

_The rest is mine, I guess, the beauty and the mess_

_to hide_

_I pull myself under and down I go again_

_It's just a little bit hard letting them in_

_Looking at the world through elusive eyes_

_I hide in the spotlight it's a great disguise_

_Ain't that what you want them to know?_

_All they all they get of you is what they get out of the show_

_The rest is mine, I guess, the beauty and the mess_

_to hide_

_Behind the melody the words don't mean a thing_

_But every tone I play would give whatever I've not said away…_

_--Nickel Creel_

_**--**_

How did I, Hermione, the bookworm, the know-it-all, the good girl, the one with all the answers, end up with Draco Malfoy? It started in seventh year…

After the defeat of Voldemort, the rebuilding began. McGonnagal was sure to see that Hogwarts would be open the following year, and she relentlessly worked on seeing to it that the castle was ready to become a school again. The emotional rebuilding, however, wasn't as simple as removing piles of rubble.

Many were still skeptical about the safety of Hogwarts, especially with the absence of Dumbledore. Despite all of Professor McGonnagal's best efforts, a handful of students were withdrawn from the school. Many of the seventh years, on the other hand, had to return to Hogwarts to complete their final year that had been severely interrupted. Harry, Ron and myself, of course, all returned to the castle among many fellow Gryffindors and several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Returning seventh year Slytherins were few and far between, and I won't lie, we were all slightly shocked to see a certain Draco Malfoy gracing our presence again.

Harry had recently confided in me that while he certainly didn't think any better of Malfoy, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for him. I can see why, after we witnessed what he had really gone through under the nose of the Dark Lord and his ruthless followers, including his own kin. No one really knew what his situation was at the moment. His father was imprisoned, that was widely publicized. But he kept to himself at school, not saying anything unless he had to, keeping out of the way most of the time, and avoiding crowds.

I was made Head Girl, to which Ron muttered "Gee, big surprise…"How Malfoy became Head Boy, I do not know. _That _certainly was a surprise. I knew his grades were decent, but considering his family and his past reputation, it seemed a little risky. Perhaps McGonnagal was trying to show the same faith in him that Dumbledore had? Maybe giving him a second chance, a chance at redemption? Whatever the reason, I held my tongue and took her lead, trying to be as civil and courteous as I could with him. Maybe all he really need was an opportunity, a little friendliness to get him on the right track.

I soon learned, however, that despite his new silent and reserved persona, he was just as insufferable as ever. During our nightly patrols throughout the castle, I honestly did try to be civil. I attempted light conversation, simple and innocent questions. He always had some snarky retort that resulted in several heated arguments, usually ending with me in a huff saying, "This is such a waste of time, it's not even worth it!" and him rolling his eyes saying that I just didn't know how to admit I might be wrong.

My continuing dislike for Malfoy felt justly deserved, especially since it had nothing to do with his family or his connection with the Dark Arts. He just annoyed the hell out of me, and he knew exactly which buttons to push to get me going. He poked fun at my long-abandoned organization, S.P.E.W, and taunted me about my relationship (or lack of one) with Ron.

True, I had expected something to come out of the close friendship Ron and I shared. It seemed that the natural next step would be for us to be a couple. The attempt at a real relationship, however, forced us to realize that we were trying to make something that just wasn't there. Sure, we were close, and we did have a different type of bond than Harry and I, but Merlin, we drove each other crazy! Can you imagine if we had actually started dating? Poor Harry would have never heard the end of it. While I was confident we had made the right decision to remain friends, it seemed that we bickered even more, perhaps as an attempt to keep ourselves distracted from any awkwardness that might have resulted from our almost-relationship. Whatever the case, he irked me to no end.

It was after one particular frustrating evening with Ron that I found myself in the presence of the last person I wanted to see- fellow Head student, Draco Malfoy. We were patrolling the castle together, and I wanted nothing more than to get it over with and go read a good book in my room to relax. He seemed to sense my edgy mood, because he smirked knowingly at me every time I sighed to vent my frustration.

"Trouble in paradise?" he mocked.

"Malfoy," I began, really in no mood to argue, or even talk, "can we just focus on the task at hand and get this done?"

"Just trying to have a conversation," he stated, "Something to do with the Weasel? Or maybe the Boy Who Lived? Or maybe both, and there is an oh-so-dramatic love triangle that you pretend to keep yourselves entertained with?"

Already at the end of my rope, I whipped out my wand and turned it on Malfoy. "Shut up," I said, "You know I'm not afraid to hex you."

Then with lightning speed that even I wasn't prepared for, he grabbed my wrist and pushed me against the corridor wall. With his other hand, he pinned me by my shoulder. I knew I was no match for him in physical strength, so I stayed still and tried to glare defiantly at him.

"Don't you dare try and hex me," he hissed. "I know how to do things that would make your skin crawl."

"Oh, of course," I snapped. "Your precious Dark Arts learned from Daddy. Tell me, did he tell you-"

Before I could even finish my insult, he muffled my words with a sudden and unexpected kiss. Stunned, and with no release from the wall behind me to pull my head back, I froze. What the hell was he doing? The argument was just getting interesting and he goes and does something like _that. _I had no idea what he was playing at.

But it was my own actions that surprised me even more. I don't know what had gotten into me, what possessed me to do what I did next. I kissed him back. Really, it was the last thing I should have done, or even that I really wanted to do. But my anger from the day I'd had was so strong, and my frustration with Ron, and even him, was so overwhelming that I felt a reckless desire take over me. It was something no one would expect me to do, not even myself. I wanted to do something that would finally catch him off guard, something that would surprise even him.

And surprise him it did. I felt him nearly pull back, but not quite. His grip loosened on my wrist as he slid his other hand to my waist. Now he seemed almost unsure of what to do next, clearly not ready for my responsive reaction. Throwing all sane thought and logic out the window, I put my arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer to me. _Consequences be damned, _I thought. I knew I shouldn't be doing this, but that is what made me keep doing it. It felt good to be doing something wrong. Something I knew Ron would hate. It felt good to be reckless and caught in a moment of dangerous spontaneity. It felt _good _to be kissing Malfoy. And that was one of the craziest thoughts I'd ever had pass through my head. But I'll admit, not much though was going through my head at all at the moment.

I'd certainly never been kissed like that before. He pressed me against the wall with his body, and for the first time, I felt _wanted. _Not necessarily liked, definitely not loved, but _wanted._

Malfoy finally pulled back, panting slightly, and looked at me almost curiously. We were still incredibly close, and my arms were still wrapped tightly around his neck. I stared back, waiting for something to happen. Anything.

"I just did that to piss you off, " he said almost disbelievingly. "I didn't think you'd give it right back."

"I, um…" I muttered lamely, now suddenly nervous and unsure of how I'd acted.

"I'm glad you did," he said simply.

With that, I gathered all my Gryffindor courage and boldly pulled him towards me and claimed his mouth with mine. He responded immediately, his hands roaming over my sides and arms and neck, while our tongues explored one another and I ran my fingers through his hair. Somehow, and don't ask me how because I was practically incapable of comprehensive thought at this point, my legs ended up wrapped around his waist, and his hands gripped my thighs tightly as he pushed his hips into mine while he held me against the wall.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny voice warned that this was ridiculous. Insane. Reckless. Unhealthy. Every word that meant wrong. I ignored it. I wanted this. No matter how unbelievable or how unexpected, I wanted it. And Malfoy knew it. He did, too.

He suddenly stopped and set me down gently. "What are you-" I began, but he just said, "Come with me." Without another word he grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him. Without even realizing where we were going, I followed him almost in a daze. Before I knew it we were in the Slytherin common room. Then were walking up some stairs. And then we were in his bedroom. He was the only Slytherin in seventh year to return to Hogwarts.

He pulled me in after him and turned around to kiss me again. "Hermione, I-"he began hesitantly.

This time I pulled back. I'd never heard him say my name before. It sounded foreign, but almost comforting at the same time. I suddenly realized how much I didn't know about him, and how much I wanted to know. Smiling slightly at his questioning eyes, he gave me a look that made it clear what he was asking. Making up my mind, I pulled him towards me again. His hands once again found their way to my waist, and he slipped one under the back of my shirt. I shivered at the touch of his skin on mine. He pulled me closer by the small of my back and I could feel his pressing hardness on my center. Emboldened by this, I ran my hands up his sides, puling his shirt off over his head.

This seemed to tell him everything he needed to know, and he pulled me onto the bed with him.

He was surprisingly gentle the first time. Probably since he knew it was the first time for me. He was tender. Sweet. Slow. Everything I never expected him to be. He was a generous lover. Being new to this and uncertain of how to be generous in return, he was patient and guiding when he saw my nervousness. Our physical chemistry was like nothing I had ever known, and it was with the promise of another meeting that I left his room, exhausted and content in the wee hours of the morning.

And that was how it began. It was purely physical for the most part. Our nightly patrols through the castle were completed in record time before we found ourselves tumbling into his bed, anxious to feel each other again. It was like we had some sort of unspoken agreement with one another, whenever one of us needed the other. On more than one occasion, he would pull me out of a deserted corridor and into an even more deserted classroom to take me on one of the desks in the middle of day. Sometimes before dinner I would drag him to the Room of Requirement for a long snog and usually more.

We were continually surprised by one another; he with how bold and confident I was with him, and I with how gentle and affectionate he could be. Some nights we were purely primal in our lovemaking, needing and wanting one another so badly that there was no room for anything else. Other nights we were slower, taking in every detail and curve of our bodies, every sigh and moan. He learned what made my breath hitch in my chest. I learned what made him grip my hips tighter as he groaned. We devoured each other, never getting our fill and always left wanting more.

I felt liberated, finally have something that was my own. Something that Harry and Ron knew nothing about. The fact that they wouldn't approve made it all the more thrilling. It was an incredible feeling to be doing something secret, something sneaky and exciting. Something that made me feel wanted and sexy. Something that made me feel alive.

Draco and I laughed with each other as we made mistakes. We embarrassed ourselves by our vulnerability. We sometimes lay for long moments without doing anything or saying a word, just content to be close with someone. We eventually began talking to each other. Really talking. First about trivial things, like homework and books (which, come to find out, he was also an avid fan of). Then our nights became accompanied by hours of endless sharing of childhoods and fears and goals and dreams.

He told me of his father, and growing up surrounded by the Dark Arts. And why he succumbed to their every whim. "They're my family, Hermione," he told me, almost regretfully as he brushed my hair away from my eyes. "I know they weren't right, but it was all I ever knew. They were all I had."

I told him of growing up as a Muggle and dealing with teasing and name-calling. "People made fun of me a lot when I was a little kid, too," I admitted, not looking him in the eye, embarrassed by the fact that I was always seen as a know-it-all bookworm. "I was always the geeky girl I was when first came to Hogwarts. Nothing's changed."

"You're beautiful," he responded, tilting my chin towards him and kissing me softly on the lips. "You've never been anything but."

That was around the time things started changing. The more we talked and opened up to one another, the more we realized how well we really got along. We just needed to give each other the chance to realize that we really were quite compatible in personality. He was intelligent and thoughtful, able to share conversations about anything from literature to politics. He appreciated the fact that I was passionate and stubborn, and could keep up with him in a debate or argument.

We still argued plenty, that's for sure. Not everything had changed. Except now our spats were more like games than anything else. It was a sparring match of words and wit to see who could rile the other one up more. And it was an excellent way to keep others from seeing how our relationship had changed.

And things had really changed. Our physical activities were still prominent as ever, but there was a new level to how we interacted. I noticed changes in the way he acted with me. He became a lot bolder in public, sneaking in a kiss on the neck when no one was around. Squeezing my thigh under the table in class. Catching my eye across the room and winking followed by his signature smirk. It aggravated me, to say the least. I thought he was being careless with our secrecy and was certain his not-so-subtle actions would expose us.

But I also liked it immensely. I began to think that maybe there was more to his actions than just physical attraction. I felt it in the way his eyes followed me through the Great Hall. In the way he let his hand rest on my lower back when he moved behind me in a crowd. In the way he held me from behind and kissed my shoulder while I combed my hair. In the way he kissed my forehead, my temple, my nose, my eyes, before we fell asleep. In the way he continued to watch me after he thought I'd fallen asleep, only to open my eyes to find his gazing back with a distant expression on his face.

When this happened again, I opened my eyes to see his locked onto mine. His hand held my neck lightly as his thumb caressed my jaw. I smiled slightly and put my arm around his waist and threw my leg over his hip and pulled myself closer to him.

"What are you thinking?" I asked him innocently, as I placed a soft kiss on his palm.

"I'm thinking… I'm thinking that I like you, Hermione," he said as he let out a breath. "I like you a lot."

I smiled at him, and pulled his face towards mine. "I should hope so," I said, "I like you, too."

GHk

Finding time to spend with him became a little harder as seventh years began to buckle down for the approaching N.E.W.T.'s exams. Nonetheless, we always found a way to be with each other. Sometimes we would sneak down to Hogsmeade and apparate to London where there were endless possibilities. We both had something to contribute to the relationship and neither one of us ever said no to learning something from the other. I introduced him to the wonderful world of cinema, and soon movie dates became a regular habit of ours. He taught me how to fly a broom. Contrary to popular belief, I am not afraid of heights; there is just something so insecure about hanging on to a strip of wood fifty feet in the air. He valiantly tried to hold back his laughter as I jerked and spun in the air. I took to him to record stores where we listened to endless amounts of music of all genres, and learned about concerts and shows we could attend. He began teaching me how to use Occlumency, "Something everyone should at least know the basics of," he said matter-of-factly.

Most of the time, all the returning seventh years could be found sitting together at one table in the library. Creating study groups, sharing notes, and all grumbling together about how this test would be the death of each and every one of them. Naturally, I was the most regular at the table. To my classmates, Draco and I appeared to be something of friends. Most at least assumed we'd agreed on civil behavior with one another. So when Draco joined us at the table to study one day, many looked up curiously at us, like Harry. Others looked slightly uncomfortable, and a few, including Ron, looked downright angry. No one said anything though, and Draco became part of our study circle.

Now I know I was young, but 18 was over age and I think I've been through and seen enough to know very well what I'm feeling when I feel it. And it was around this time I started realizing that I was in love with him. I can even pin point it to the exact moment.

We were walking around London, mostly window-shopping. We were both casually dressed in jeans and sweatshirts. He had his arm draped casually around my shoulder, and I laced my fingers with his hand and put my other arm around his waist. I always fit so perfectly right there, nestled under the crook of his arm. It was like I'd always been there. I stopped outside an antique bookshop to look at the display of aging and historic tomes. A middle-aged woman was exiting the store with several books stalked against her front. As she tried to maneuver out the door with no hands, a few of her books toppled to the ground. I didn't even notice until Draco bent down to help her pick them up. He stacked them neatly back in her hands for her, and after she thanked him profusely calling him a "darling boy" he returned to stand behind me. He put his arms around me and set his chin on my shoulder.

"Anything you want, love?" he asked, nodding towards the window display.

I turned to face him, still remaining enveloped in his embrace. "I love you," I stated bluntly.

He clearly was not expecting that, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. But a look spread over his face that made my heart pound in my chest. He looked relieved. He looked satisfied. Content. He was practically beaming. I held my breath, waiting for him to say something, anything…

"And I love you," he said before capturing me in a dizzying and phenomenal kiss. I didn't care that we were in the middle of a bustling London street. I didn't care that this was the last person I ever though I would love. I didn't care that people wouldn't accept us. I love him and he loves me. We were in love.

_I love him. _

_--_

A few days later we sat on a bench near the river, and were breezing though Arithmancy flashcards together. We were some of the few who took that class, so we resorted to studying for it outside of the group. The weather was sunny for a change, and it was one of the first real days of warm weather. He had his arm around me as I leaned against him, with one leg thrown over his as we worked through the problems out loud.

"Draco," I said abruptly, "Do you ever get frustrated that we have to keep everything a secret?"

"Well," he began, wondering where the question came from, "yeah, it's hard sometimes to have to pretend I don't care about you."

"It's just- I'm sick of keeping this a secret. I'm not ashamed of you, and I'm not afraid of what the others would say. I want to finally be able to kiss you goodbye when you leave a room, and hold your hand when you sit next to me."

"I know," he said comfortingly, "I know what you mean. Maybe we should consider just telling them?"

"Maybe…" I said, and trailed off. I was certainly ready for the secret to be out, but I wasn't quite sure what the best way to do it was. Harry and Ron would be a special case. I'd have to break it to them gently. Draco and I left the conversation at that, not really coming to a complete decision about what to do.

Things got interesting on a rainy day a few weeks before exam time. We were all sitting at our usual table in the library pouring over Transfiguration notes and practicing little wand movement under the table. Lavender was a having a particularly hard time with one piece of magic, and Draco said he had better notes on that in his room. "I'll go grab them," he said, "Be right back." Then, without pausing, without thinking, he leaned down and kissed me goodbye. It was a quick kiss, nothing I would've felt awkward about any other day. He pulled back after barely a second and never looked away from me. I dropped my hands from where they'd gone to hold his face, and stared back at him. His expression told me one thing: _Oh, bollocks._

So much for breaking it to them gently…

"What the bloody hell is going on?" a voice demanded from the table, snapping us back to the rest of the group. Ron looked positively livid sitting across from me. Most were just gaping at us with their mouths slightly open. I glanced at Harry to find him looking almost triumphantly at me.

Draco shifted uncomfortably, still standing next to me. "Draco, how about you go grab those Transfiguration notes for Lavender?" I said pointedly.

"Great, sure thing," he said looking incredibly relieved and wasting no time in leaving the tense room.

_Well, _I thought_, it had to happen sometime. Might as well lay all my cards on the table._ "Draco and I are seeing each other. We're in a relationship, " I told them bluntly. I tried to sound professional and rational, leaving none of them an excuse to attack our motives. "We care a great deal about one another and would greatly appreciate if you all respected our decision."

Lavender and Parvati were positiviely giddy with excitement. A secret romance? A love affair that went against everything we all knew? How dramatic! How romantic! Neville looked baffled, looking around at the others at the table to see what they thought. Ron glared at me disbelievingly, but apparently could find nothing to say about my little announcement. I looked to Harry, his opinion meaning the most to me out of everyone in the room. He still had that look on his face, that knowing look I'd seen him give me lately. I nearly laughed with relief when he gave me a grin and a wink that told me he still loved me no matter what.

Let me take this moment to say that I really didn't give Harry enough credit. I know he's a smart wizard, but I'll admit I thought I was smarter, and I thought myself quite clever in the way I could sneak around so carefully. But as he later informed me, "I'm not a complete idiot, Hermione." He noticed how my unexplained absences become more frequent. He noticed the way I would get lost in gazing across the Great Hall toward the Slytherin table. A few times he even caught Draco winking at me, he said. He noticed the way I hummed more, and always had a smile ready to escape my lips. When Draco and I became more publicly friendly with one another, he wasn't the least bit surprised. "Any dunderhead would've seen it coming," he laughed, "Of course, that's not saying much for Ron…"

When Draco returned to the library, Lavender positively sang her thanks for his notes and immediately set to work with him going over them. He glanced at me anxiously, wondering what had gone on while he was gone. I gave him the same grin and wink that Harry had given me, silently telling him everything was fine. Everything would be fine.

End.


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